


Mitth Family Values: Tantrum

by WantonWhale



Series: Good Day, Lieutenant Vanto [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Okay Thrawn is maybe minutely jealous, Shameless abuse of Cheunh, Thrass turns into Rachmaninoff when he's angry, Thrawn is not jealous, Xenomusicology, bond-mates making out, but he does make impulsive art purchases, but hey, gratuitous Eli-nipple-fondling, he is not, he never threw anyone through a window, polyglots kiss better: fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22924024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WantonWhale/pseuds/WantonWhale
Summary: Eli and Thrass discover their shared love of music.It is a talent that Thrawn does not share and a source of connection between his brother and bond-mate that he is not remotely jealous of, so could you please stop saying that he is, thank you.Takes place during the events of"Good Day, Lieutenant Vanto"post-Thrawn homecoming. (But honestly you probably don't need to read it for this)
Relationships: Thrass | Mitth'ras'safis & Eli Vanto, Thrass | Mitth'ras'safis & Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto
Series: Good Day, Lieutenant Vanto [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626466
Comments: 23
Kudos: 69





	Mitth Family Values: Tantrum

_Setting aside the datapad, he gazed again at the pattern of numbers flowing across his display. For most people, he knew, numbers were next to meaningless. For Eli, by life and by training a supply specialist, they were like music. Whether they formed themselves into inventory lists, targeting calculations, or hyperspace course and position data, numbers were at the heart of everything that made the universe function. They spoke to a grand symphony of people, humans and nonhumans alike; of worlds and trade routes; of the lifeblood of good and evil alike._

_Perhaps that was why he and Thrawn had worked so well together. Eli had his numbers, Thrawn had his art, and neither skill could be fully understood by anyone else._

-Excerpt from Timothy Zahn’s Star Wars: Thrawn

_ Mitth Family Values: Tantrum _

It never ceased to amaze Eli just how _good_ a kisser Thrawn was.

The man did have a talent for picking up new languages, Eli considered as he shamelessly snogged his husband in the entrance hall of the manor. Apparently that linguistic talent extended to Thrawn’s singular ability to pull Eli apart piece-by-piece with his tongue, anticipating just what Eli _himself_ didn’t even realize he wanted done to him and executing the maneuvers with superlative skill.

Like that thing Thrawn was doing with his fingers to Eli’s left nipple that was making him shiver.

Eli didn't even realize he wanted it, but hells if it wasn’t exactly what he needed now that it was happening.

Eli paused, his lips still locked with Thrawn’s as he wrinkled his brow in confusion. He could have sworn he heard the distant echoes of music. “Do you hear that?” he asked against his lover’s mouth.

“Ah,” Thrawn said, sliding his hand out from under Eli’s shirt, “that would be my brother having a tantrum.”

Eli frowned, loosening his fingers from Thrawn’s hair and tilting his head to listen more closely. “Your brother is having… a _musical_ tantrum?”

“Indeed,” Thrawn said, “I suspect it has something to do with a recent acquisition I made of a painting with the Mitth-family funds.”

Eli pulled back, eying Thrawn in amused suspicion. “Just _one_?”

Thrawn paused, then admitted, “I anticipate him becoming far more upset in the near future.”

Eli snorted. “Okay, well I’m gonna go check on that whole… _situation_ … and you just stay here and look pretty, alright?” He gave Thrawn’s ass a quick squeeze before stepping away.

Thrawn arched an eyebrow and said, only half-jokingly, “Do I need to be worried about my brother seducing you away from me with music?”

Eli grinned wickedly at his husband and bond-mate but didn’t answer. Instead, he just said, “Try not to splurge on more art while I’m gone,” as he left to investigate this “musical tantrum.”

Behind him, Thrawn narrowed his red eyes.

* * *

Eli didn’t know what he’d been expecting from the combined sounds of music and Thrawn’s description.

But this wasn’t it.

He found his brother-in-law and (technically) guardian in one of the parlors, seated on a bench before a large instrument and pounding away furiously at the keys.

Eli arched an eyebrow as he watched and listened. He still didn’t quite understand all the subtleties of Chiss music, being a twenty-nine-tone octave system. On Lysatra, a twenty-four-tone system was used—twice that of the twelve-tone octave favored by most Humans in the Empire—but still, there must be micro-tones he was missing.

Even so, Eli knew that Thrass was good.

_Very good._

As Eli approached, he saw that the Chiss’s hair was in complete disarray, but his face relaxed as he made his displeasure known solely through the expressiveness of the music. Eli coughed lightly and the music stopped.

Thrass turned his head, his eyes narrowing in anger before softening ever-so-slightly upon seeing someone _other_ than the object of his frustrations. “I was rather hoping you’d be able to control him better, Mitth’eli’va,” he said sharply.

Eli shrugged. “Nobody told _me_ he wasn’t supposed to be buying art.”

Thrass let out a single, short, contemptuous huff. “Do you enjoy this lifestyle?” he asked coolly, waving a hand at the ornate parlor.

Eli could pretty much be happy anywhere he could find a stable surface upon which to wreck or get wrecked by his bond-mate... and maybe some decent snacks, but he decided to humor the man. He was clearly stressed enough as it was. “Sure,” he answered.

“I thought so,” Thrass said. “Now, do you know how much an original Rida’chah’lo costs?”

Eli frowned and shook his head.

Thrass waved his hand at their surroundings again, more exaggerated this time, “ _This,_ Mitth’el’iva, it costs roughly the same as _all this._ ”

Eli made an impressed whistling noise as he slid onto the bench beside Thrass, experimentally tapping a smooth, black key, releasing a low tone. “That _does_ sound pricey.”

Thrass glared at him for a few moments, but his face shifted to a subtly curious expression as he watched Eli systematically run through each of the keys available to him, cataloguing them. Then, he made a perfectly harmonious chord.

And then another.

Thrass arched a blue-black eyebrow. “Have you encountered the _pa’i’no_ before, Mitth’el’iva?” Eli shook his head and continued to form chords. Thrass chuckled under his breath, “Your talents for seeing patterns in numbers extends to music, I see?”

Eli gave him a self-effacing sort of half-smile before turning back to the keys, “If anything, my talent for seeing patterns in numbers extends _out of_ my talent for music.” He shrugged slightly, “if it can even be called a t—“

“—What did I say about slighting Mitth’el’iva in this house?” Thrass said firmly, his eyes warm with fondness.

Eli looked up from the keys and smiled at the Chiss. “They do so at their own risk?”

Thrass nodded. “That’s right.” He reached forward to the sheet music in front of him and began shuffling through it. “I’ve no doubt that you’ll be able to handle Chra’chma’ninov soon enough… being _you_ and all…” he peeled back a few black sheets until he found what he was looking for, “Let’s try some Ch’opin—no, _Brah’mas_.” He settled the sheet music back in its place.

From behind them, Thrawn looked on, leaning in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest and a thoughtful expression on his face. He'd been wondering when this was going to happen and—he would insist to anyone who asked—not _remotely_ concerned about it. He watched his brother explain Chiss musical notation, pointing out the notes and their respective keys. It wasn’t long before Eli was able to play the first bar without guidance.

He played the second bar without any guidance at all.

Thrawn smiled, his eyes softening as Eli made an excited bounce of his shoulders.

The smile quickly faded as Thrass decided Eli's hand position was less than ideal and merited manual correction.

“There’s no doubt you can find the notes,” Thrass said, moving his hands over Eli’s to adjust them, “but you’ll make yourself sore if you don’t watch your placement… keep your knuckles _above_ your wrist like this... and curved, like this…”

Eli allowed his hands to be adjusted, feeling oddly like some sort of poseable doll.

“There,” Thrass said at last, “stay loose, and try that.”

Eli arched an eyebrow as he tried to calibrate his playing to include this new addition of attention to form.

“Move your wrists _forward_ ,” Thrass said as he watched, glancing briefly over his shoulder at his brother before turning back to Eli, “You shouldn’t have to straighten your fingers so much... Curl them more inward. Yes, like that... a little more... more... now press down a little harder... harder... _that's it just like that....Yes! There!"_

Thrawn narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, keeping his arms folded across his chest as he approached the pair. He leaned against the back of a nearby couch as Thrass pointed to the sheet music and said, “You play the bottom, and I’ll be on top. Ready?” he asked, positioning his own hands, not bothering to check the effect this was having on his little brother. 

Eli nodded and they began. Thrass allowed Eli to set the pace, slow and steady. The longer they played, the smoother Eli’s movements became. Thrass made occasional corrections. Whenever Eli would drop his wrists too much Thrawn would give him a reprimanding nudge of the shoulder and Eli would flash him an apologetic smile, quickly correcting himself.

Thrass continued playing one-handed, reaching up the other to turn the page before returning it to join its fellow, dancing across the keys beside Eli’s.

Eli kept playing as he felt a hand grip his shoulder, squeezing it lightly before simply resting there, the familiar warmth of his husband’s hand relaxing him as he worked through a more complex passage of music.

Thrass cast his brother a side-long look but kept playing. “You know they make perfectly good reproductions these days.”

“They’re not the same,” Thrawn said, rubbing slow, deliberate circles against Eli’s shoulder with his thumb in time with the music.

“No they are _not_ the same,” Thrass agreed, returning his eyes to the music, “I know because they’re _a hundredth the price._ ”

“They are _worth_ even less,” Thrawn said, sliding his hand to massage Eli’s neck in a subtle reminder of just _which_ brother he’d chosen to bond with and _why_. Eli leaned back against the contact, his fingers straightening a little too much as his wrists pulled further from the keys.

Thrass noticed, nudged Eli with his leg and then looked up to narrow his eyes at his brother, “Must you?”

“I think you know that I must,” Thrawn said flatly.

Thrass sighed resignedly and pulled the cover over the keys, narrowly missing Eli’s fingers. The human gave him an apologetic look and said, “it _is_ really your fault this is happening, you know.”

“Oh believe me, Mitth’el’iva,” Thrass said wearily as he rose from the bench, “I am _painfully aware._ ”

Thrawn continued his ministrations on Eli’s neck as his brother stood to face him, shooting him a withering look.

Thrawn winked.

Thrass rolled his eyes. “I know, I know: _He’s the sexiest genius you’ve ever seen and you need him now,_ ” he mocked. Before turning to leave, he jabbed a finger into his brother’s chest and growled, “ _Return it._ ”

Thrawn opened his mouth to protest but Eli cut him off, turning over his shoulder to shoot his husband a stern look: “ _Today,_ ” he added.

Thrass gave Eli a small nod of approval and he returned the gesture, his brown eyes smiling conspiratorially.

“Perhaps we can continue your lessons when my brother is finally locked up for good,” Thrass said over his shoulder as he made his way out the parlor, not looking back at the sickeningly-sweet couple.

Eli stared after him for a few moments, then turned to smile at his husband as he joined him on the bench. When Thrawn didn’t say anything, or do anything, but only continued to stare at Eli with a strange look on his face, Eli laughed nervously. “What is it?”

Thrawn took one of Eli’s hands from where it was resting above the key-cover and held it to his lips, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the knuckles before saying with a small smirk: “As much as it pains me to admit when my brother is right… you really are the sexiest genius I’ve ever seen and I really do need you now.”

Eli leaned forward, sliding a hand down Thrawn’s thigh as his lips ghosted just in front of his. When his husband leaned forward to meet his mouth for a proper kiss, Eli leaned back and stood from the bench in one smooth motion. “You can have me _after_ you’ve contacted that art dealer.”

Thrawn narrowed his eyes slightly. “Fine. But I want you on the _pa’i'no_.”

Eli reached forward, gripping Thrawn’s chin in his fingers and giving it a quick squeeze, “Oh, I bet you do, art boy.”

* * *

Thrawn made contact with the art dealer in record time.

Not only did he cancel the purchase Thrass _had_ known about, but he also canceled several that he had not.

It was a small price to pay for sensual perfection.

And besides…

He was _desperately_ curious to see just how much punishment that instrument could take.

_Both of them._

_-fin-_

**Author's Note:**

> Rida’chah’lo = Frida Kahlo
> 
> Chra’chma’ninov = Rachmaninoff
> 
> Ch’opin = Beethoven—JK it’s Chopin
> 
> Br’ah’mas = Brahms
> 
> In my mind, Chiss music sounds very different than Rachmaninoff, while also being exactly Rachmaninoff: [THIS](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GhBXx-2PadM) is what Thrass was rage-playing in my head
> 
> Here’s a taste of what a [29-tone system](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWPS-RLLG9w) sounds like
> 
> The Lysatran 24-tone is based on the [Arabic system](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBlnY-f-2IM)
> 
> So, obviously, Rachmaninoff and Chopin were not composing in these scales. But we're not talking about them: we're talking about the very different Ch'omposers Chra’chma’ninov and Ch’opin. See the difference?
> 
> [ _The Mathematical Theory of Tone Systems_ by Jan Haluska](https://books.google.com/books?id=o2K1DwAAQBAJ&pg=PA233&lpg=PA233&dq=15+tone+system+octave&source=bl&ots=bEQsw9BEg1&sig=ACfU3U1PQP_tROD9zhTfZF3RaMD2MaVyvg&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiVkvWajPLnAhURcq0KHeoaCSMQ6AEwDXoECAoQAQ#v=onepage&q=15%20tone%20system%20octave&f=false) is, apart from Thrawn’s journal, one of Eli’s favorite books <s>I have decided</s> and something you can read a little of online!
> 
> My WIP (inspired by the same quoted passage) about how Thrawn was only able to analyze Savit because of his relationship with Eli was glaring at me the entire time I wrote this. So if you ever end up reading that one once it’s published, just… shhhhhhhh. _Don’t tell it I was cheating on it with another musical fic._


End file.
